Saturday

Senn threw the book he was reading as hard as he possibly could, aiming to hit his brother Killian in his face and maybe smack some sense into his head. “You’re a traitor, fuck off.”

“Senn, seriously…” Killian stood helplessly after catching the book. “Don’t throw mom’s books. You’ll regret it later.”

“I’m not listening to you anymore,” Senn glared at him, contemplating on what to throw next. Killian was right, he would regret throwing his mom’s books. “You just gonna leave me like every-fucking-one.”

“Senn, come on. You knew I had to go back to school one day. You knew it was going to happen.” Killian stepped further into the room, his eyes landing on the piles of boxes that decorated one corner of the room.

Senn knew what he was thinking, and what he was possibly going to say. He hadn’t done anything to turn this room into his room. And why would he? This was not his room, nor was it ever going to be. Not really.

The walls had been painted white—a blank canvas as his aunt so cheerfully told him every day—and the floor had been thoroughly cleaned and waxed before they turned the former office into an extra bedroom for Senn. That’s really all there was; white walls, a shiny hardwood floor, a bed and a nightstand.

And about a dozen moving boxes filled with clothes and school supply.

Some boxes were opened, since Senn did need clothes. But that was all that was visible as a sign of his presence; clothes scattering the floor and on the boxes.

There were only three items he had unpacked ever since he had come home from hospital about five weeks ago. His dad’s magic 8 ball that he had occasionally used when making decisions, while his mother’s engagement ring was safely tied into the strings that were part of a leather bracelet that belonged to his grandfather. Lastly, Liam’s favorite pacifier was on his nightstand.

Well, that, and the books he had claimed three weeks ago. Killian had been about to sell them or give them away, but he couldn’t let that happen. Which meant that another corner of the room was filled with three large crates full of books.

But again, he wasn’t planning on unpacking anything, let alone decorate the room.

“You should really do something with this—”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m not gonna, and I don’t give a fuck what you think because you’re a traitor. Go, fuck off to college. Leave me alone in this messed up hell.”

“Seriously, you can’t expect me to stay with you forever. You have got to try and move on with your life. I know it’s tough, but that’s what Mom and Dad would’ve wanted.”

“Fuck. You.” Senn jumped up from his bed feeling agitated. “Five fucking weeks, Ki! Five! I had five weeks to adjust. In case you don’t remember, I was in fucking hospital for three months because I was there when it happened! Easy for you to say. Move on,” he mockingly said, crossing his arms. “You weren’t there.”

“And you don’t remember being there.”

Senn shook his head in disbelief. How could he speak so lightly of this? What difference did it make that he couldn’t remember the horrible accident himself? If any, it was good that he didn’t remember because it had apparently been horrifying to see the aftermath.

But that didn’t mean he could simply forget that he had been in hospital for so long because of said accident. Or that he was the one driving. And that his parents and his brother Liam died in that terrible accident.

His fault or not—which it wasn’t—he was the only one that came out of that car alive.

“Just leave,” Senn muttered as he stared at the floor, his hands bawled beside him. “I don’t care.”

There was a silence, and Senn knew Killian was still in the room because whenever someone walked over it, the hardwood floor creaked close to the door, and it hadn’t made a sound yet. Senn really needed him to leave, before he was going to lose it.

And he wasn’t allowed to act out too much, since he was still recovering from the accident.

As the silence dragged on, Senn counted. To ten, to a hundred, a hundred and fifty… One hundred eighty—

“I guess I can postpone it for one more term,” Killian said, breaking the silence. “You obviously need me here and I’ll do everything to help you. If that means staying and delaying college… I’ll call the school and explain the situation.”

“Really?” Senn looked up, feeling slightly surprised Killian really was going to stay for him. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah, idiot,” Killian smirked. “You’re my brother, of course I’ll do that.”

“You’re the best!” Senn ran forward, throwing his arms around Killian. “You don’t know how much this means to me!”

“As long as it makes you happy. Because I haven’t seen you smile before today.” Killian pulled back, pushing Senn’s face up to look at him. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

“What? Don’t start about this fucking ro—”

“No, not the room. Promise me you will go back to school, and you will try. This is hard, really fucking hard, but it can’t ruin our future, okay?”

Senn sighed, shrugging a shoulder, pulling away from Killian to sit on his bed again. “I will go to school, I will try, I can’t promise, though. Because... I don’t know…”

Senn fell backwards on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t know how to voice his current state of mind. It was… like he wasn’t himself anymore. Before the accident, he wouldn’t have spent his few weeks of summer hiding in a house. He would’ve contacted friends to swim in the lake or river or hang out at the city center. Or just to play soccer if it wasn’t too hot outside. They would’ve gone and eat ice cream—Strawberry sorbet ice cream—and go fishing in the river.

But ever since he got released from the hospital, he just didn’t want to anymore. He didn’t feel like calling his friends to ask where they were, or what they were doing. In fact, he had dozens and dozens of missed calls and messages when he was still in hospital and allowed to use his phone again.

And he ignored them all because it was all just too overwhelming.

And going back to school? Well, it frightened him to death, because he didn’t know what his closest friends were going to say or do. He didn’t want to answer questions or tell them what he knew or remembered. He just… didn’t want to exist for a while. The silence of the lost memories, the gaping black hole in his mind, was the safest place he knew in that moment.

But overall, it was the fear of not knowing what was going to happen, that caused him to feel restless and left him unable to promise anything.

“I’m just scared.”